


A Quiet Town

by double_trashcan



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-25 19:19:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16203992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/double_trashcan/pseuds/double_trashcan
Summary: Come in & read it, no need to summarize.This story will have alternate endings in order to cater to different tastes.





	1. A Silver Gleam Among the Green

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello, this is thecatsaver speaking, we finally begin our journey where it took us a bit too long to release these, I'd very much like to give you a planned schedule on when each chapter will be released but unfortunately "Life is just the shipwreck of our plans.", I stole that quote from The Shape of Water. 
> 
> One more thing, both me and the other half of this trashcan union who actually is braver than me and is a vegetarian, would like to let you know that all the leather mentioned in this work is pre-regarded as faux, we don't want to romanticise that. 
> 
> We also had kittenvondoom on Instagram who was our samaritan artist & drew this amazing piece for us, check it out: https://www.instagram.com/p/BolBB-5nqTd/?utm_source=ig_share_sheet&igshid=12tiu9tt8luhn
> 
> (Also can someone tell me how to make an indented paragraph in this thank you very much.)

A sharp cracking sound echoed through the night, the trees surrounding the meadow were almost dancing to the raw sounds of breaking bones in the wind. He raised the bat once more, a nimble woosh was heard as it landed on the man’s head, nearly destroying his skull. He was not moving anymore, laying on the ground, motionless. The Cardinal was motionless as well, standing there watching the blood spread and stain the grass around the body, the soil of mother nature hungrily absorbing it underneath. Just moments ago, this tranquility was being ripped to pieces by the screams of a man as The Cardinal snatched the maple baseball bat from his hand and blew the first hit. Back then he was moving, trying to escape, still trying to preserve his pride as he, in a vain effort, tried to not scream like he was being bashed to death, but the one with the weapon won, he didn’t stand a chance. It was a beautiful view though, everytime The Cardinal lifted the bat in the air for another blow his clothes tightened around his shoulders, and when he delivered each strike down, his scapulae protruded from his back bringing attention to his figure tightly wrapped in leather. At some point his enraged grunts and guttural sounds started to accompany the movement of the bat. That was when the trees started to dance, his grunts brought wind, and possibly the same sounds were carried away to the fields with that exact wind. As this wind picked up and the first streak of blood on his face was starting to dry, stray strands of his hair that fluttered everytime he landed a blow were already trapped in the sweat collecting on his forehead. The last few blows painted his face really well with his victim’s blood, he was glistening, towering over the fallen man. 

His eyes were rather cloudy when he let the bat drop next to the body in newfound silence, his other hand wiping the blood and sweat off his face, however this didn’t really work as the leather glove only smeared this concoction all over his sharp temples and the stroke of his palm against his cheekbones aiming to wipe off splattered drops of blood only gave him a rosy complexion, fueled by the thrill. The cherry on top was when he ran his fingers through his hair, sending all those liquids into his strands, blood hiding among dark brown locks. He turned his back to the site, his right hand went to his mouth and he pulled off the glove, before he took his first step forward he spat to his side, a pinkish white glint flew in the air and crashed to the ground as the fading moonlight complemented his profile, then he turned his head to front again and started pacing while rubbing his bare hand rather sore from the hard wood base of the bat. 

The night sky kept getting darker and turbid in his absence, the body was laying on its side, both arms flailed and stretched out lifelessly, cradled by the tall grass going back and forth with the wind. Then the man-made light and sound came back, first the front grill was visible accompanied by bright headlights, after that appeared a black 1967 Ford Thunderbird. The car maneuvered near the body, The Cardinal could see it lay on the grass there from behind the wheel on the rear view mirror. He stopped the engine and walked out just as tiny drops of rain started to fall, ever so faint, just the beginning. “Good.” he thought, “It will clean the site.”. He stepped towards the trunk, reaching into the pocket inside his jacket while he lifted the trunk’s lid. He turned back to face the body as he leaned against the now open trunk, pulling out a pack of Red Luckies and a box of matches from his pocket while doing so. He pulled one from the pack with his bare fingertips and placed it in between his lips, he thought about the disposal of the body as now a lit cigarette was hanging from his lips.  
The rain was still very faint, he shook his hand to put out the match and placed it aside as he calculated his time with the disposal, he knew where to hide it but if the rain was going to get stronger and last til the morning he was not going to be able to get rid of it until late tomorrow for most of the disposal ground would be wet and muddy. He inhaled a last deep one from his cigarette as he got back to his feet and walked to the driver’s side, putting the cigarette out in a bottle filled with just a couple of inches water as well as throwing the dead match in. Leaving his remaining glove to join the other one on the driver’s seat, he was barehanded now as he pulled a plastic bag from the trunk, inside the bag was a pair of surgical gloves and a handsaw with a worn out green handle. 

Towering over the body again, he pulled out the plastic gloves clasping them between his fingers, he let the handsaw fall into the grass, _a silver gleam among the green_ , and placed the empty plastic bag next to the body like a bedside item for the eternally sleeping man. He rolled up his sleeves, put on the gloves and slowly descended to his knees. The body was rather pale from the blood loss, he reached to the saw and shifted it to his right hand while placing his left hand on the disfigured temples-courtesy of the bat- of the head. He traced the man’s face to find a good spot to grip as he positioned the blade of the saw on his neck and sounds ridden with friction started filling the air. 

Now he was cursing under his breath while dragging the body towards the trunk, he dropped it upon reaching the car, it fell to a mangled position as he was spreading a thick plastic cover on the trunk. The rain was getting stronger, he needed to clean up fast. The dead for sure didn’t help himself into the trunk and the large sac that was going to embrace his limp shell. And soon a rather round companion in a plastic bag joined him. The Cardinal let some of the rain wash off the saw and the bat before hiding them away in the trunk and took off the plastic gloves, sent them flying onto to the other contents of his trunk. Closing the lid he was ready to go. He took a last glance at the site under the rain and got into the car before he was further soaked. 

The rain was still not at its full force yet-maybe it was going to be a short shower- as he drove through the desolate roads that led him up to the meadow before, he knew of a particular spot where trees were so dense, it would take this pour a while to reach the ground, that spot was perfect unless the sky didn’t betray him. He glimpsed at the rear view mirror, his eyes seemed fiery, but rest of his features worn out, his hair was slightly wetter than before as he had to carry the body to the trunk under rain, the mix of blood, raindrops and sweat actually suited his hair in this setting, lit up with a rather weak, yellowish light from the car’s dome lamp. He adjusted the mirror, turned the lamp off, headlights guiding the way where his chances of running into a deputy and adding another body to the trunk were at their lowest. Uninvited raindrops kept crashing into the windows as the leafless trees surrounding the road started to disappear, replaced by the lights of a nearby gas station that he was going to pull into. As the roof of the lone station sheltered the car from the rain, The Cardinal got out. Walking straight into the bathroom while giving a two finger salute only to The Old Lad who owned the station. 

The Old Lad was a rather strange man, but he was trustworthy. The gas station had a staff consisting of three, The Old Lad, a 20-something girl at the cash register, and a 17 year old cleaning boy who now bursted out of the bathroom with a mop in his hand just as The Cardinal was about to enter, he leaned to the wall while rolling his eyes to make room for the boy to pass. He knew the boy was afraid of him, many people were afraid of him though. Once left alone he entered the ragged bathroom, the walls were grey and speckled with rough plaster, a single light bulb dangled from the ceiling buzzing as if the current was inconsistent and the sink had a greenish hue to it. He pushed the stall door with the tip of his shoe, unzipping and taking a piss, his leather gloves were jammed into his back pocket. After relieving himself and flushing -which was a risky move in such a well kept place with at least 10 year old pipes that looked like everything was clogged- , he went back to the sink, watching himself in the frameless, dotted and dirty mirror that hung above it while washing his hands. His head was pounding a little under the crude light coming from the bulb. He let some water pool on his palms so he could wash his face, as the water spread around his skin a flash of the previous moments on the meadow visited his mind. He rubbed his temples with his wet hands before watching the reddish water go down the drain. Raising his head back up to the mirror with water dripping from his defined lower lip, he eyed himself one last time, he knew that he actually liked how the smeared blood made him look but it was gone now, he was good to go. He took a deep breath that made him wrinkle the root of his nose as the putrid smell of human waste danced with bleach in the air. Drying himself up with some tissue paper from the dispenser, he stepped out after throwing the crumpled paper into the trash. Just outside the station’s shop section door was the girl from the cash register waiting, he nodded at her, she turned around and walked into the shop as he followed, putting his gloves on while doing so. She got behind the counter, pulling out a key from the pocket of her denim jacket and unlocking the glass cabinet with her back to him. In this glass cabinet behind the counter sat packs of various cigarette brands, “Same as usual?” she asked, her back still turned against him. “Yeah.”, The Cardinal responded with a rather rough voice before she took out a pack of Lucky Strike Red, closing the cabinet she turned around to see him leaning onto the counter on his elbows, his forearms resting on it, “What a sight.” she thought. 

There was a fact that he was unaware of, the girl had an interest in him where no one else did, she wouldn’t look at his eyes while dragging the pack towards him on the counter now, just a rapid gaze at different parts of his face, especially avoiding his discolored eye so that he wouldn’t think she was “judging him or something” as it was quite the opposite, she was reticently desiring him. As he took the pack she felt his gloved fingertip brush against the nail of her thumb, too many layers she thought, his gloves and her nail where she could barely feel the touch. The Cardinal put the pack in his back pocket and reached to his wallet inside his jacket, leaving a banknote on the counter. He started walking to the door as she picked up the banknote, holding it a bit too tight. Just as she was closing the register drawer she heard a faint screech on the floor and looked up to see him turn back on his heels walking to the counter again, “And a box of matches please”. Smiling, she handed him the box, this time keeping her fingertips a little bit longer on his gloved palm. The leather was slightly warm, looking at it she noticed the coagulated drops of blood, this was not a surprise as she knew he had a shady side or more precisely, he was the embodiment of shady. She didn’t really care, not at all, thinking “Was it merely a fight? Or something more serious?” only made her further aroused.  
As she pulled her hand back, she looked at him in the eye for one second, then flashed another smile “Its on me.”. He had already caught up with her gaze on the glove, he raised the box a bit higher in the air, tilting his head slightly to the side with a smile, working on distracting her with these gestures he usually didn’t do before. As if she was going to out him, as if she didn’t like him in this twisted way-and as if giving free matches for once was going to bankrupt the station-, he wasn’t fully aware, especially tonight, he wasn’t paying enough attention to the contents of this station. 

The fresh air on the outside greeted him with a breeze, water was not dripping in a crazed way from the edges of the station’s roof now, the rain had stopped but the thunderbolts at the distance did not, they were getting stronger as clouds were getting ready to pour once more. “Fuck it.” he thought as he walked to his car, his client was getting an extra tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have found any mistyping or grammar mistakes please let us now, and yes maybe I should change the title to Sexy Murder.


	2. Un Bonnet de Cardinal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come in & read it, no need to summarize.  
> This story will have alternate endings in order to cater to different tastes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Retrograde

_Everything about him, every single detail that he allowed to be a resident clinging to his back were now rotting in a square shaped, heavy safe. Its green paint mouldering, making little crackling sounds as he would disturb the erected ends of the green coating with his nails on long sleepless nights he’d very rarely get. He would rest on a wooden foldable chair, elbow on his left thigh as he’d sit with bent knees and spread legs to lean onto the safe between his feet. Chin on his palm, he would think of the times that were long gone. His few scars would prick him until sunrise.  
No one knew that though, at least no one in this town, not one soul._

 

The Cardinal was prowling around the room, a cement cell with a man right in the middle, tied to a chair, a cloth knotted behind his head, circling through his mouth, silencing him. His steps came to a halt once again as he bent down to look at the man in the eye, he seemed weak covered in blood and slumped on the restrains binding him. The Cardinal’s gaze wandered onto the steel table at the corner where sat a couple of papers full of his own handwriting, his harvest as he had been torturing the man, extracting information for hours now. He didn’t let any of the blood spill on the papers unlike the pen which had its smooth black barrel ruined under the bloodbath. 

He was now by the table, pulling out an 18th century scalper from the duffle bag he brought, “You know, my friends from France asked for a special treat. I think they call it-” he came to a short pause as his usual Italian accent shifted to a bolder, sleeker one, “ _un bonnet de cardinal._ ”  
His eyes were almost glowing while rising the scalper closer to light, he repeated “Un bonnet de cardinal”. Staring at the man once more he asked as he cracked an eager smile “Sounds good, eh?”

The man had a look in his eyes where fear and disappointment united as he was caught off guard in a way where he missed a step: always be doubtful of a newcomer in your town. He did not doubt his torturer until he woke up in this room.  
Almost gliding in air towards him The Cardinal began, “Now I want you to be as loud as you can-” tugging on the cloth in his mouth in order to highlight his forced silence he continued as he was getting behind the chair “-no one can hear it anyway, it is for me.” he finished, now with the scalper dangerously close to the other man. The captive knew there was no way out at this moment but yet he tried to contain himself while The Cardinal’s scalper started cutting its way into his forehead. Only minutes later his crazed, muffled screams started to rise under the cloth just as The Cardinal wanted. He continued his handiwork on the scalp, now his arm firm under the man’s chin as he was moving too much, briefly fueled by the pain, but it was almost done.  
Before pulling the skin off, he walked to the front of the man again, now frozen, and about to pass out from blood loss. He was pulling out the gun placed in his own waistband as he leaned forward to place the scalper on the captive’s knee where it would sit until he was done.

The Cardinal stood there, preparing the gun, aiming at the man’s chest, then moved a little to adjust the range as well.  
As the gun pointed at his heart the man took a last, dying glance at the muzzle.  
“Au revoir.” The Cardinal spoke in a vivacious tone with the French accent coming back, then pulled the trigger in that cement room where no one but the spirits of the town heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thecatsaver speaking: this was a look into the past as its how The Cardinal got his nickname when he first arrived in town if I didn’t make it obvious enough in the chapter, double_trashcan’s other half who is French blessed this work when she remarked a medieval expression “un bonnet de cardinal” which literally means a cardinal’s hat and is told when you are about to skin or severely injure someone’s head. Their head will be covered in blood therefore giving them a look where its like they are wearing a red cardinal’s hat


	3. Antlers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come in & read it, no need to summarize.  
> This story will have alternate endings in order to cater to different tastes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Retrograde
> 
> please don't forget to read the end notes

_Everything about her, every single detail that she didn’t allow to seep into her new beginning were now rotting in the journals she left under her bed in her childhood room, a room now as far away as the day she picked this town on the map, deeming it to be both affordable and far enough from her troubles. Relying only on herself to build a genuine life, she focused on being content and leaving behind all the memories that haunted her steps for too long._

It was mutually decided that she would be taking a shuttle every morning and evening to work, The Old Lad seemed to be a congenial boss, what bugged her was the station’s location as it was a bit too out of town. However she was going to be paid well as The Old Lad announced her monthly paycheck with his strong British accent on the day of her “job interview”.  
“I’m only doing this for the sake of it, you already got the job my dear. You should’ve seen the pillocks I had to deal with until you walked in.” 

She still brought her pepper spray everyday to work as stray drunkards would occasionally walk into the station, repelled by either the boss or the cleaning boy-which indicated that some were not much of a threat if this boy could repel them-, but other than that it was actually a pleasant job at the edge of nowhere, dusty but mostly peaceful, she didn’t care about the rest when she was wearing her name tag, which read “Maude”.  
She had cared too much, blindly-courtesy of her upbringing, now a thing of the past-, about academic and career related ambitions before, until pressure almost took the control off her hands, apparently her wings were destined to spread under a sooty sun where the air smelled of gasoline.  
Of course, she didn’t get this poetical when she met her roommate, “a happy loser” she introduced herself as, she had worked hard for this title. Once the rent was split to two many things got easier, but no amount of money could buy the piece that adorned her coffee table, a pair of _antlers_. 

As she gained The Old Lad’s trust after five months in the job, she was left in charge of the station when he decided to take a week off to care for his private affairs. On her second night at this week where she was about to close the station since the boss was merciful enough to not make them work night shifts in his absence, she noticed a car pulling in, she knew who it was as she watched the black four-door Thunderbird pull over, station lights illuminating something strange on the grill, she and the cleaning boy realized at the same time that a red liquid adorned the front of the car, the bird emblem was painted red under the blood now resembling a phoenix. She could feel the boy stiffen at her side as a man all in black stepped out of the car, his dark brown hair messily swept back with few locks falling over his ears. He walked over to them before mumbling about having an unfortunate encounter with a deer, making a circle in the air with his hand in a fist as if he was wiping an invisible object he asked “Would you mind?” and then walked to the bathroom. “I bet it isn’t a deer’s blood.” the cleaning boy whispered to Maude’s ear once the man was at a distance. She laughed at this, she knew the boy was not going to go near that car “I can clean that, I’ve cleaned a lot of blood in my time anyway.” she joked as she left the boy to stand there watching. While she was pouring the water through a hose she inspected the front, only visible damage the car suffered from was red staining, no dents or scratches, nothing, this seemed rather odd. 

The man was now back as she raised her head to ask what did he do with the dead animal, did he left it on the roadside, or did he put it in the trunk to use as some roadkill cooking books suggested, “If its in the trunk, can I see it?” she asked carefully even though this wasn’t the first time they had him over, yet it was the first time she informally spoke to him out of the cash register, the man stalled at this question for a second which made visible changes to the cleaning boy’s face as he got even more terrified.  
“Sure.” he said, Maude shot a victorious glance at the boy before following the man to the back of the car, inside the trunk laid a young, petite deer with half grown antlers, Maude’s eyes went to the multiple gunshot wounds on its body and the man started explaining,  
“It already had one foot in the grave when it jumped on the road, it just slumped over to the grill and died there, must be an illegal hunter or something, didn’t even let the thing to grow, shot it multiple times.” he seemed genuinely upset.  
“What are you going to do with it?” Maude asked as she turned her gaze to him.  
“Give it a proper burial.” he responded with a slight shrug.  
She crossed her arms while asking,  
“Would it be inappropriate to rob it of its antlers now?”  
the man sounded rather amused at this question as he responded  
“It wouldn’t mind at this point probably.”  
She spoke before turning around to enter the station  
“I’ll get a saw, the boss probably has one in the closet along with a couple of skeletons.” this joke was only strong enough to make the man raise his eyebrows, but she was in the mood tonight. 

After separating the antlers and giving them to her, he left the station. The cleaning boy was convinced that he was a major threat even though they had seen him pleasantly talk to The Old Lad multiple times which confirmed his status as harmless to them, should things go to not-harmless she would be the second fastest one to hightail it, the gold medal always belonged to the cleaning boy.  
“I’ll be honest with you, we all have worse problems to worry about than a customer who barely shows up once or twice a month.” she proclaimed which made the boy stop for a moment and then nod in agreement reluctantly as they both eyed the station that was at their hands for the remaining week. 

What no one knew was that she had been thinking about him at nightly hours under her sheets for a while now since she saw him enter the station all raggedy and weary for the first time, her fingers beautifully acting on behalf of him even, he was of good material for her nocturnal pleasures she had decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thecatsaver speaking: this is similar to what we did on un bonnet de cardinal, events here transpire way before the current events like the bat murder, here is one thing i want to explain in her characterization: you might think that she gets the "butterflies" near the end of chapter one, if you didn't think like that congratulations you got what i was trying to convey as i really dont want her to consist of only a stomach home to butterflies and a vagina, what is witnessed in the first chapter is pure interest/desire as i call it and it is a part of human nature, i hope its well fleshed out in your mind that she consists of many, many things. we want you to relate to her but also give her a character that we see fit to the story which will branch out into possibly two endings, if you haven't realized: we don't know what her face or body looks like which is on purpose as we try to minimize the visual description of her appearance meanwhile we fill out a shit ton of details on every single angle and shot of the cardinal and make his characteristics leak through those(i feel like the most visible-through-the-story characteristic we gave him so far is how eco-friendly he is with cigarette butts/matches to the bottle and not to the ground, faux leather and his sadness about the deer which i will ask you to comment if i need to add a warning tag for)
> 
> yes i am rambling and if maude is somewhere out there having magically gained a corporeal form she will bash me goodbye


	4. Mismatched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come in & read it, no need to summarize.  
> This story will have alternate endings in order to cater to different tastes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are back into the present time, this is the last chapter before the alternate endings make an appearance as we decided to make the chapter count 6, information on how you should proceed will be added to the beginning notes of each alternate ending to help you navigate, alternate endings will be released at the same time but we can’t promise when because “Life is just the shipwreck of our plans.” 
> 
> Please don’t forget to read end notes.

The road to this base like place he was going to was a rough one, he leaned to front to change gears as he was nearing the destination, his arm bent from the elbow reaching to the column shifter as his hand faced towards himself while his gloved fingers were closing around the handle one by one, moving it masterfully. One of his few recognizable traits was the way he operated his Thunderbird. Moving stalwartly but attentive, it was a strong, graceful sight when on asphalt. 

Headlights illuminated the stone building he was pulling into, he was only a little out of town but yet the rain was left behind as the wind slowly carried the rain clouds to the opposite direction, nearby his disposal spot at the other side of the map. 

A half wall circled around the building’s whole perimeter, its ends left open for entrance without a gate door. He parked inside the wall across the building’s door just as a tall man with black rimmed glasses appeared making a beeline towards the trunk, waiting. As The Cardinal walked out to open the lid he looked at the waiting man for a moment which gave him a chance to ask:  
“You got it?”  
This was not such a bright question but it was usual, he had worked with this client before and he was asked the same question every time, he hummed affirmatively while opening the trunk to reveal the contents. First he pulled the large, blood stained sac out and dropped it to the ground where it sat between them like a small mountain, this was the extra. The client seemed surprised as he started,  
“Wait, this isn’t his head?” he asked before concluding with what drew a light snort from The Cardinal, “His ego didn’t inflate that much.” his tone emphasized on the word “that”.  
“Consider this as a way to increase authenticity, a bonus.” The Cardinal responded as he gestured at the small mountain before pulling out the main souvenir from the trunk, handing it to its bespectacled recipient. The man’s features almost resembled a fox as he grabbed the bag and peeked inside where the only thing he could see was jet black hair matted with blood. 

The Cardinal was standing there watching his reaction, the recipient looked rather astounded at what he was seeing,  
“Nothing you can’t fix?” the fact that this was a mere sentence made to only sound like a question conveyed The Cardinal’s message to the man as he nodded with wide eyes behind the glasses. He responded as he was preparing to go back into the building with the plastic bag, eager to work:  
“We are done for now then, give me a moment.” 

The Cardinal didn’t close the trunk as he waited, instead he grabbed his pack from the passenger’s seat and lit a cigarette once again leaned against the car, his gaze searched around for a sign and he spotted it next to the half wall. Only minutes later his client emerged from the building with a steel handcart that he dragged behind him, its wheels clanking as he neared. Inside the cart was a black fabric bag, offering it to him the client moved on to the sac on the ground and after checking the condition of the body, he placed it in the cart meanwhile The Cardinal was inspecting the wads of banknotes inside the black bag with his cigarette clasped between his teeth.  
“All is good.” he said after taking the cigarette between his fingers as he put the bag into a dry spot on the trunk. He inhaled before asking:  
“Is the cremation-” he waved his hand in the air as he was searching for the right word “-chamber available?”  
“I’m afraid not.” the client responded before silence started its reign between them until they nodded at each other and the client returned to the building with his extra work load for good while The Cardinal reached into a metal case hidden deep inside the trunk, unlocking it with a key from the pocket inside his jacket he transferred the banknotes into the case and secured it. He then walked to the back seat of the car to pull out a duffle bag that contained a spray bottle, a trash bag and a bunch of old towels, he spread some of the towels onto the plastic cover inside the trunk so that they could absorb the leftover blood while he cleaned his handsaw and the maple bat, first spraying them thoroughly with the strange smelling liquid from the bottle, then placing them on the ground and washing over them with the garden hose that was left for him as a sign, if the hose laid next to the stone wall it meant he could clean his gear here, if not then he was to leave immediately after delivering whatever he had brought. Once the bat and the saw were clean he made sure all the excess water made its way into the old drainage, watching it flow through the blackened bars and into the darkness below before placing the hose on where he picked it up in the first place. 

The towels had absorbed all the blood now, he carefully rolled them along with the plastic cover and placed them into the trash bag swiftly to avoid making another mess and then sprayed the entire trunk and the case, two towels were all it took to make it look like there hadn’t been anything macabre inside since he had let the soil on the meadow drink most of the bodily fluid his victim released in the aftermath of his ordeal with the maple bat which he was wiping dry now along with the handsaw. All the towels, surgical gloves he used tonight were going into the trash bag, he made sure there was nothing left for the eye in the trunk other than the hidden metal case and the duffle bag which held the bat and the handsaw. He tied the ends of the trash bag that he couldn’t dispose yet, pushing it as behind as he could behind the duffle bag.

Before leaving he put out his dying cigarette on the ashtray that sat on the small table next to the half wall, he didn’t leave the end in there though, off it went to his usual bottle in the car. Sitting behind the wheel now he took a deep breath as he pulled out from the yard. 

 

He drove for a little while, quietly reaching to the more desolate parts of the town. The car slowed down as soon as he saw the wire fences shining under the headlights, marking out a wasteland. Parking under the dark shadow of an old and filthy, metal plated shed he shut down the car yet remained seated, waiting for his eyes to accommodate to the darkness. He studied his surroundings, making sure everything was clear before exiting the car. The night was calm and quiet now after the end of the rain, which was convenient for what he was going to do. He looked around while approaching the trunk, opened it, pulled the trash bag out and placed it on the ground rather carefully in order to prevent it from bursting its glorious load all over. Then he unlocked his metal case and took some cash which he stuffed into his right pocket. After making sure everything was locked and secured once again he, together with the trash bag, paced towards the area beyond the fence where there were car carcasses-some half burnt, some totalled-, rusty appliances and all kinds of bulky garbage. This place was known to be “unpleasant”, some urban legends had spread around although it was the living that thrill-seeking adolescents were supposed to be afraid of rather than baseless stories of dead spooks the legends carried. But yet, even the bravest ones wouldn’t dare to break in for the scare they thought it held. 

In reality, it was a lair for those considered as dregs of society-homeless people, addicts and dealers and many others- by the same group that deemed the place “unpleasant” before turning their backs and never thinking about it again.  
But, also a very useful place for people like The Cardinal who wanted to simply get rid of incriminating evidence. There were very few patrols, the local police turned a blind eye to whatever was happening there as it was apparently trendy to maintain the status quo even if it is awful; they preferred it to happen at the edge of the map rather than downtown. Everybody found their niche. The Cardinal was a mere shadow in all of this, slipping through a large cut on the fence, walking carefully but confidently as he always did. 

No one was around, just a few of the homeless chatting and heating up close to a barrel in which a fire was burning, its reflection dancing on the puddles rain had left on the ground. The talking stopped as his faint footsteps were heard, they could only distinguish a dark silhouette at first. As he got closer, fire lighted up The Cardinal's face where no emotion was visible now. They immediately recognized his _mismatched_ eyes, the fire reverberated in them, illuminating his black pupil and turning the pale iris almost red. They all remained silent, observing each other. After putting the trash bag on the ground he waited for a moment, reaching to his pocket, taking the cash out, handing it to the tallest one who took it while nodding at The Cardinal and distributed it among his mates. Now with the hush money out of the way, they resumed their conversation as if the previous minutes never transpired. The Cardinal picked up the bag, got closer and emptied everything into the fire one by one, occasionally adding a little gasoline from the bottle the men had nearby to the towels to make them combust faster, the warm breath of the fire pleasant when it ran through his hair after each throw.  
Air was quickly filled with the smell of burning fabric and plastic, The Cardinal took a few steps back and had a smoke while waiting, making sure the towels were burning to ashes and offering one from his pack upon catching one of the men staring at the grey clouds he was producing.  
When he considered it was all done and gone, he slowly turned around and walked away into the dark, back to his car and his silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thecatsaver speaking: can you guess whose head it was in the plastic bag? if not then please google “metal hammer ghost 2018” and if you’re lucky he will look back at you with his lifeless eyes from the cardinal’s hands, also that wasteland idea was again a blessing from the other half of double_trashcan who goes by the name LucifersBeams on twitter, and now i want the cardinal to fuck my shit up in a garbage bin thanks


End file.
